Remembering to Forget
by knobblyfruit
Summary: Sucky title, I know. Fenton forgets something pretty important when he gets caught up in his work. Part 3 up! FINISHED!
1. Part One

**Hey, y'all! This is my first Hardy Boys fic and the longest fic I've ever produced (out of the 3 I've actually written), so if you could be kind (and not flame me), that'd be great. This was semi-inspired by an episode of "2 1/2 Men" I saw a while back, so I don't claim _complete_ credit, just most of it. Hehe. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy's, but this guy named Tommy says he knows where I can get 'em "real cheap." Hmmm...**

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"Frank, please get in the car," Laura Hardy said to her son. "I'll be there in a minute. I have to talk to your father."

The brown-haired 9 year old nodded as he put his jacket on. "Just don't make me be late," he said as he walked out into a chillier-than-usual September day.

Laura chuckled to herself as she pulled her own coat on. Frank had been looking forward to going to the Science Museum in Bridgeport with Phil for too long. She was just glad he had a found a friend with common interests since they had only moved to Bayport last June.

Just then, her husband walked into the room. He looked at her in surprise. "Hey, I thought you left already."

She smiled at him. "I wanted to remind you that if you need anything I'll be at the Harper's. I left their number on the refrigerator; I'll be back around 9:30. Libby Cohen said she'll drop Frank off tonight when they get back from the museum, which'll probably be around 8:30 or so. Joe is at the Mortons' place and they'll bring him to the soccer game, since Chet's in it too. The game's at 3:00 and make sure I get a play-by-play tomorrow." She grabbed her car keys off the counter. "Joe's been looking forward to you see his last game since last week. He's been practicing with Frank all week, so if they lose he's going to need some cheering up."

Fenton laughed softly and wrapped his arms around her. "I'll take him out for ice cream, win or lose."

She kissed his cheek. "Sounds good. Now I have to go. Frank probably already notified the authorities that I'm missing." She untangled herself from her husband and left.

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Joe Hardy pressed his nose up against the backseat window of the Mortons' minivan, watching the cars go by on the highway. He was beginning to think they'd never get back into Bayport. Why did Chet's house have to be way out in the country, anyway?

Joe whirled around when he felt someone poke him in the ribs. Chet was sitting there, a big smile on his face. "What?" he asked innocently.

Joe rolled his blue eyes at the chubby boy. "I know it was you."

Chet shrugged. "Yeah, it was." He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back into the seat. Joe went back to looking out the window (without pressing his nose against it).

Only a few seconds had gone by when Chet whispered, "Hey, Joe."

The blonde boy turned around again. "What?"

"Are you scared?"

Joe was surprised at the question. He knew Chet scared easily, but over a soccer game? "No. What's there to be scared about?"

"Well...it's our last game. _Everyone_ will be there watching us. And if we lose, they'll think we aren't very good. And then maybe they won't let us play next year."

"Everyone?" Joe gulped. If he wasn't scared before, he was now. But he wasn't going to let Chet know that. Then his expression brightened. "Hey, my dad will be there!"

Chet raised an eyebrow. "So?"

Joe rolled his eyes again. He found himself doing that a lot with Chet. "So, that means we can't lose! I don't want the first game he sees to be one we lose."

Chet grinned. "Who said we were gonna lose?"

Joe got that impatient look on his face. "You did!"

"Nuh-uh. I just said _if_ we lose."

Joe was about to reply when he realized the minivan had stopped. He looked out the window again. "We're here!"

"Yeah!" Chet's little sister, Iola, piped up from the seat in front of them. "You two better stop fighting, or I'll tell mom!" she added, which would have been loud enough for her mother to hear anyway, if she hadn't already gotten out of the van. Joe just stuck out his tongue at her, glad he didn't have a little sister.

When they were finally out of the van, Mrs. Morton told them to put their sweatshirts on. After a little grumbling and an "Aww, Mom!" from Chet, they complied and were ready to play. "Come on, Chet," Joe said, tugging on his friend's sleeve, "we gotta go meet the rest of the team!"

Mr. Morton smiled at the boy's enthusiasm. "Alright, boys, you go on. Chet, remember to meet us at the usual place after the game."

"Okay, Dad!" he shouted behind him as the two ran off towards the field.

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There was only about 5 minutes left in the tied (2-2) game when the coach on the other team called a time out. The home team went back to their side of the field as well. Joe kept looking out into the bleachers which were full of people, just like Chet said they would be. One of his teammates, Allen Hooper, came up to him. "What's the matter? Lookin' for somebody?"

Joe nodded. "I can't see my dad anywhere," he said, somewhat sadly.

Allen smiled. "My parents are out there somewhere too, but I have no idea where. Don't feel too bad."

Just then the timeout ended and both teams went out to the field. Joe felt better knowing that Allen couldn't see his mom or dad either. He just knew his dad was out there.

He rushed up and down the field, following the ball with his eyes. Their opponents currently had control of it, but he knew that wouldn't last long. He was right. Chet suddenly stole the ball and dribbled it down to their goal. Joe ran after him, on the other side of the field.

Before Chet could attempt a goal, someone from the other team came up to block him. He knew the only chance was to kick it to someone else. That's when he spotted Joe across the field, but even closer to the goal than he was. He decided to chance it. Taking a deep breath, he kicked the ball as hard as he could towards his friend. His blocker was caught by surprise, not expecting him to do that.

Joe easily caught the ball with his feet. He continued to dribble it towards the goal. The other team was coming up on him fast. He'd have to kick the ball right away, but he didn't think he could make it. Then he thought of his dad up there in the bleachers watching him, and how proud he would be if Joe made this shot. With that, he kicked the ball even harder than Chet did. The goalie rushed up and jumped at it, but he miscalculated and the ball flew over his head as he fell to the ground.

Joe gasped. He had made the goal. In his shock, he could faintly hear his team running up to him, yelling and cheering. He was jarred out of his thoughts when Chet pounded his back. "You did it!" he yelled. Another boy, Tyler West, exclaimed, "That was a great last-second shot!"

Joe was dazed. "Last second?"

"Yeah!" Allen said. "The buzzer to end the game went off just after you kicked it. Didn't you hear it?"

Joe shook his head. His teammates half pushed, half pulled him to their side of the field. Coach Warren congratulated him, smiling. "That was a great shot, Joe. I'm glad you moved here to Bayport." Joe swelled up with pride, but only grinned.

After a little bit of celebrating, Chet said he had to go meet his folks by the concession stand. "I'll see you guys later!" he shouted as he ran off.

Joe glanced at the huge clock above the bleachers on the other side of the field. It was 4:30; his dad must be waiting out in the parking lot where his mother and Frank usually met him. "I gotta go too. Bye, Coach!" Then he rushed off to meet his father.

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**Wow, this is going to be longer than I thought, so I'm splitting it into 2 parts. I want to see how y'all like this part before I post the other one. Thank you and good night.**


	2. Part Two

**Hello again! I'm proud to announce: PART DOS! I just want to say that Fenton came out kind of...odd...as I was writing him.My fingers have minds of their own when I'm typing, I swear.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own the Hardy's...I'll let you know when the deal goes through... **

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7:45 PM found Fenton Hardy at his desk in his study, talking on the phone with one of his several operatives. The missing man he had been asked to find had suddenly turned up on his own, only God knows why. Fenton was now trying to figure out (without actually leaving his house) where the man had been and what he had been doing, hoping that it wasn't any criminal activity because that would probably mean more work for him.

When he finally hung up, there was a tremendous BOOM that shook the house. His naturally paranoid mind jumped to explosives and bombs but quickly realized it was only thunder. Now that he was paying attention, he could also hear the rain pounding on the roof and could see lightning flashing every few seconds. BOOOOOM... he jumped at that one. "Geez...haven't seen a storm like this around here for a long while," he muttered to himself.

He was about to go check to make sure they had flashlights and candles in case the electricity went out, when there were footsteps running down the hallway. They stopped right in front of his door and knocked. Well, the footsteps didn't knock, but you get it.

Fenton went to open the door and found Frank standing there, a little breathless. "Hey, Dad. We came back a little early 'cause of the storm."

His father smiled. "I'm glad you made it back in one piece. I was just going to check on the emergency supplies."

Frank nodded as he followed Fenton down to the kitchen. "Yeah, it's raining really hard out there." He was silent for few moments, listening to the thunder shake the house. "Hey, where's Joe? I'm surprised he's not clinging to your leg or something. How did his game go, anyway?"

That made Fenton stop in his tracks. Frank saw him suddenly go pale. "Dad? Are you okay?" Then he got really worried. "Where's Joe, Dad?" he asked softly.

Without warning, Fenton ran to the front door, ripped his coat of its hook, and practically threw it on. Then he grabbed Frank's already damp coat and tossed it to him. "Put it on and get in the car."

"But, Dad "

"NOW."

Frank had never heard his father use that tone of voice before. He hurried out the door and almost instantly his coat was drenched again. He hopped into the passenger seat and had barely shut the door when his father threw the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway.

It didn't take long for Frank to figure out that they were heading to the soccer field. He suddenly felt sick. "You didn't go to Joe's game, did you, Dad?" he asked, almost timidly. There was no answer, which Frank knew was a 'no'. Fenton was driving much faster than the speed limit, but Frank realized that there was no one else out on a night like this to notice, anyway.

Fenton was heading towards the parking lot when he slammed on the brakes so hard Frank thought his seat belt was going to cut him in half. As he parked the car right there in the middle of the road, he said, "Frank, stay here."

Fenton jumped out of the car, running to the bench he had seen with a small, huddled figure sitting on it, hoping against hope that it was his son. Though he couldn't imagine that more than one idiot parent had forgotten their own child in one night.

He reached the bench just as the child looked up. "D-d-dad?"

Joe's shaking voice broke Fenton's heart, and he scooped the boy up in his arms, pressing him close to his chest. "Oh, thank God. Joe, I'm so, so sorry...so sorry." Joe was soaked to the skin and shivering rather violently. Fenton knew his own wet clothes weren't helping him. He carried Joe to the car, set him in the back seat, and quickly climbed in with him.

He stripped Joe of his wet clothes and wrapped him in a blanket that he kept in the car for emergencies. When he was finished, he sighed. He could breathe easier now; Joe was safe. His youngest son's eyes were closed, but he was still shivering (though not as bad). He glanced at Frank, who had been watching the whole scene with his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. That's when the sky decided to let loose its fury once again. BOOOOOOOM...

The thunder had shocked Fenton for a moment, but what shocked him more was Joe's scream. He knew that his son had a fear of thunderstorms _before_ this incident. Now, it was only going to be worse. There were even tears rolling down his face. Fenton was about to comfort the boy when the door on Joe's side swung open and Frank hopped in, which surprised their father because he hadn't even heard the front passenger door open or close.

Frank put one arm around Joe's shoulders and ran his hand through Joe's hair with the other. "It's okay, little brother," he whispered soothingly. "It's okay. I got you."

Joe opened his eyes. "F-f-frank," he managed to say before he started to cough in a way that Fenton knew couldn't be good.

Snapping to attention, Fenton went back to the driver's seat and started the drive home, thinking that Laura was going to kill him.

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Fenton pulled into the double garage and noticed that his wife's car was also there. He sighed. He had hoped to get Joe in the house before she got home, though he knew there was no way to pretend this never happened. Frank would never let him do that.

He carried Joe (still wrapped in the blanket) into the house through the door in the garage, with Frank following. Laura came into the entryway. "Where have you " she broke off with a startled gasp when she saw her younger son sleeping in his father's arms. "Joe! What in the world happened?"

Frank was about to answer but Fenton said, "I'll explain later. Frank, get into some dry clothes and go to bed."

His son looked at him angrily. "But "

"Frank Matthew Hardy! This is _not_ the time argue!" He had that tone of voice again. The boy glared at his father before running up the stairs to his room.

Laura looked extremely confused. She had never heard her husband use that tone of voice, either. "Fenton, what's going on?"

Her husband shook his head. "Just please go find Joe some pajamas."

She went to the laundry room, and when she returned to the living room she saw that Fenton had laid Joe down on the couch and had gotten blankets and pillows from the hall closet. Together, they swiftly dressed him. Then he started coughing again.

"Oh, _that_ doesn't sound good," Laura said. She went to get some cough medicine from the bathroom. "You're going to have to wake him up. I can't give it to him while he's sleeping."

Fenton leaned over his son. "Joe...Joe, you have to wake up. We'll give you something for that cough." Suddenly, Joe gasped and put his arms around his father's neck. "Joe, you're okay," he said soothingly. "Everything's gonna be okay. You're home now. You're safe."

Upon hearing that, Joe opened his eyes. He looked around the room, reassuring himself that he was, in fact, home. Then his mother came back with the cough syrup.

"Here, honey," Laura said, putting the little plastic cup to Joe's lips. "Drink this. You'll feel better."

Without question the boy downed the cup's contents, then settled back into the pillows and fell back to sleep. His father wrapped the blankets around him, noticing that he could no longer hear any thunder or rain pounding on the roof.

He stood up, watching his son sleep. Only now did he let guilt and shame take over his emotions. So many things could have happened to Joe out there; he could have been kidnapped, he could have tried to get home but gotten lost, been bitten by an animal...

"So is he gonna be okay or what?" Laura and Fenton whirled around to see Frank standing on the stairs. They realized he had been standing there the whole time since he hadn't changed out of his wet clothes.

His mother sighed. "He'll be fine. Now, I believe your father told you to do something." As Frank turned to go up the stairs, she followed him. "I'd better make sure you do it this time."

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**Okay, this is gonna be A LOT longer than I thought it would be. Part Three (which is the last part) iscoming up soon (if you want it, that is). I'm not quite finished with it so it might be a couple days before I post it.**


	3. Part Three

**All right, this is it, honestly. Sorry for the delay, I kind of ran into a bit of a writer's block and I still don't think it turned out the exact way I wanted it to. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

**Disclaimer: I'll never own the Hardy's. I called Tommy back and apparently they were "rescued." Whatever _that's_ supposed to mean...**

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Fenton didn't need to be a detective to figure out that Laura was going to ask Frank what had happened. That was probably best, though. He didn't really want to be the one to tell her and he knew Frank would only be too glad to do it. Most children Fenton knew didn't care much for their siblings, especially younger ones. But Frank wasn't "most children."

A half hour later, Laura came back down to the kitchen see Fenton sitting at the table staring into space, absently stirring some now cold cocoa with a spoon. Her mind was reeling from what Frank had told her. She walked right past her husband and took some bread and peanut butter out of the cupboard. She wasn't actually hungry; she just needed something to occupy herself.

As she spread the peanut butter, she started to think, which was what she had been trying not to do since she came down. It had only taken about ten minutes to talk to Frank. The rest of the time she had spent just standing in the hallway, trying to calm herself down. But even now it was hard to believe there was a rational, logical explanation for Fenton's...mistake.

Suddenly, before she even realized she was doing it, she slammed the knife down on the counter and whirled around. "Fenton," she said calmly, trying hard not to yell. "What in the name of God caused you to forget your son?" Truth be told, she had already guessed the answer and did not doubt she was right.

There was silence for a moment while Fenton thought exactly just how to tell her. Finally, he slowly turned around to face her. Just like he had always told his boys, he decided honesty was the best policy, though he didn't go into details.

"Some complications came up in my case and I got a little caught up in trying to find out what exactly happened." Laura could now see how exhausted he was. He looked old and it seemed like he hadn't slept for days. 'Worry will do that to a person,' she thought. But she wasn't going to just let this go.

"Do you want to know what I think? I don't _want _to hurt your pride or anything, but since you forgot about our son tonight, I think I'll just forget about your pride." She knew she was being childish, but didn't care. "I think you depend too much on Frank."

Fenton stared at her, astonished. "What does that have to do with anything?" He figured denying it would only make her angrier.

"It has everything to do with it!" She walked over to where the kitchen met the living room so she could see Joe. Her voice became softer. "What if Frank hadn't come home when he did? What if he had stayed at the Cohen's for the night? Would you have remembered Joe at all?"

The guilt only got worse. "I - I'm sure I would have..." he drifted off, seriously doubting himself.

Laura continued, facing her husband now. "And I've noticed that when the boys are playing outside, you depend on Frank to watch after Joe because you know damn well he will. I've even seen him help Joe make a sandwich for lunch when I know I asked you to make something for them. He's 9 years old, Fenton! You put these responsibilities on him without even realizing it." She took a deep breath.

Fenton just sat there, letting her words sink in, knowing she was right. "I don't mean to do that."

But Laura was on a roll and she didn't want to stop there. "I finally find some friends in this town and decide to spend a day away from home, just relaxing and not worrying about anything, thinking that everything was okay, and telling myself that I didn't need to call because I was just being paranoid. Then I come home only to find that I can't trust my own husband with our children! And I feel like that's something I've always known, but " She broke off.

Fenton looked pained. "Laura, please..."

She sighed and practically collapsed in a chair. "Do you know what's so useless about this conversation?" She didn't bother to wait for an answer. "I know you feel guilty and ashamed of yourself and worried, and that's exactly how I want you to feel. I can't make you feel any worse even though I want to because you already know how I feel about this." Tears filled her blue eyes. "I just don't want anything like this to happen again."

Fenton closed his eyes and when he opened them again, there was a fiery determination in them. "It won't. Ever. I promise. Things are going to change around here."

Laura knew he meant it, but she still had doubts. She just wanted to go to bed. "I guess that's the best we can do for now." She stood up and started up the stairs but stopped when she saw Joe again. "Could you please carry Joe up to his bed? That way if he needs us, we can hear him." Then she went upstairs to bed.

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The next morning was bright and sunny, leaving no trace of the storm from the night before. Fenton was the first in the household to wake up. He headed downstairs to make himself some coffee, but was passing Joe's room and decided to check on him.

He slowly and quietly eased the door open and smiled at the scene in front of him. Joe was curled up in a ball, wrapped in his blankets. Frank was sleeping on the floor right next to his brother's bed with a pillow and blanket he had brought from his own room. Fenton's smile turned into a slight frown when he remembered what Laura said about depending on Frank. He wondered if Frank had come here on his own or if Joe went to get him.

He closed the door and went to the kitchen. He was just sitting down to read the newspaper and drink his coffee when Frank came down the stairs. He avoided his father's eyes as he grabbed the box of Frosted Flakes and poured himself a bowl. He sat right next to Fenton to eat, but still ignored him.

Fenton sighed. He'd have to talk to him sooner or later. "Frank, I know you're upset with me and I'm really sorry about all this. But did you go into Joe's room by yourself or did he come and get you?"

Frank looked at his father in surprise. "I peeked into Joe's room before I came down here," Fenton explained.

"Oh," was all the boy said. He obviously still had no intent of talking to his father.

"Frank, did Joe come and get you or did you go into his room on your own?" Fenton was determined to get an answer.

Frank squirmed slightly in his seat. "I promised I wouldn't tell."

"So he did come to get you?"

No answer.

"Look, you may not understand this after what happened last night, but I want to help Joe. I know he isn't going to tell me straight up how he feels, so you kind of need to be the mediator between us."

Frank look puzzled. "Mediator?"

"That means if Joe tells you anything you think I should know, you should tell me."

"I'm not gonna break my promise," Frank said, determinedly.

"Frank, please! I didn't purposely forget about him. It was an accident. You know that, right?" Fenton was suddenly almost desperate for Frank to believe him.

Frank stared into his cereal and nodded slowly. "But that's not what Joe thinks," he said softly.

Fenton's voice got softer too. "I want to know what it is Joe thinks so I can try to make things better. You know your brother; if I were to go ask him myself, he'd get all stubborn and wouldn't tell me. You're the only one he talks to about things like that."

Frank was thinking very hard about what his father just said. He seemed to be torn between helping his little brother and never talking to his father again (like he had planned). Then with a deep breath he started to talk.

"Joe came into my room last night and woke me up 'cause he had a bad dream. He wouldn't tell me what it was about so it must have been pretty bad. I went back to his room with him and put him back to bed and stayed 'til he fell back to sleep."

"Then you went back to your own room?"

"Yeah, but he came back in a couple hours later 'cause of another bad dream. So I grabbed my pillow and a blanket and went to sleep in his room. He fell back to sleep and didn't wake up again after that."

Fenton scrubbed a hand over his face. "You could have came to get your mother or me."

Frank shook his head. "I think Joe's dreams had something to do with you. Plus, he didn't want you or mom to know about them."

His father nodded. That made sense (unfortunately). "Did he say anything else?"

Frank hesitated. "He - he said that you loved me more than him."

Fenton nearly spit out the coffee he was drinking. "What?"

"He said that you went to all of my baseball games over the summer 'cept one but you didn't go to any of his soccer games and the one you could have went to, you didn't. Plus you left him out in the rain..." he trailed off.

Fenton felt stupid for not expecting this."That's not true, not true at all."

"That's what I told him, but I don't think he believed me."

There's was silence for a few moments, both of them lost in their own thoughts. "All right, Frank. You'd better finish your breakfast and go get dressed."

Frank picked up his half-eaten bowl of cereal and said, "I'm not really hungry anymore." He dumped the bowl in the sink and ran up the stairs.

Only a couple minutes later, Laura came down, already dressed and ready for the day. Fenton watched as she grabbed a Nutri-Grain bar out of the cupboard. He knew she was purposely ignoring him, but he thought he'd try anyway. "Good morning."

She pretended she hadn't heard him. There was a creek from the stairs. Laura and Fenton looked up to see Joe standing there. Laura smiled at him. "Good morning, sweetie. Want some Lucky Charms?"

Joe nodded, looking at his father. He suddenly looked away and kept his gaze to the floor as he sat at the table.

All the guilt and shame Fenton was feeling the night before came flooding back. He felt horrible. Joe couldn't even look him in the eye.

"Here you go, honey," Laura said as she set a bowl in front of him with a glass of orange juice. "Want anything else?"

Joe shook his head as he started to eat. Laura ran a hand through his blonde curls and smiled at him affectionately. They were both doing very well in making Fenton feel like he wasn't even there.

"Hey, Mom!" Frank yelled from his bedroom.

"What?"

"Where are my jeans?"

"I put them on your dresser!"

"No, you didn't!"

Laura sighed and shook her head. "I did too," she said as she went upstairs to prove to her son that the jeans were, in fact, on the dresser, leaving Fenton and Joe in the kitchen by themselves.

Fenton watched as Joe continued to eat his cereal. He sipped at his coffee, which had by now turned cold, but he didn't really notice. Suddenly, Joe stopped and put his spoon down. He was still staring intently into his bowl, however. Concerned, Fenton was about to ask if he was all right when he spoke. "Dad, why didn't you come to my game?" He slowly looked up, his eyes wide with confusion and hurt.

His father's heart nearly broke. Fenton had expected him to ask something like, "Why did you leave me in the rain?" or "How did you forget about me?" But, no, the only thing that had mattered to the child at all was that his own father never made it to his soccer game.

"I played really hard, Dad. We won, and I made the winning goal. I did it 'cause I thought you were watching and you'd be really proud of me." He looked back down at his cereal. "You could have told me you didn't like soccer," he added softly.

Fenton was silent for a moment while Joe's words sunk in. Then he got up from his chair, turned Joe's chair around so he faced him, and knelt down so he was at his level. "Joe, did I ever tell you that I used to play soccer when I was your age?"

Joe shook his head.

Fenton continued, "Well, I did. It was my favorite sport. In fact, it's still one of my favorites. But I still like other ones, too, such as basketball, football, and baseball." He put emphasis on the last word. "I know I went to most of Frank's Little League games last summer, but you have to remember that we had only lived here for a month or so and I didn't have my agency set up quite yet. So I wasn't working."

Joe was listening intently when he realized something. "Frank told you what I said!" he said angrily.

His father held up his hand. "Hey, calm down. He did it because he wanted to help you. I asked him how you were doing because I didn't think you'd tell me."

"You didn't ask," Joe pointed out.

"Well, would you have told me if I did?"

Joe thought about it, then only shrugged his shoulders.

Fenton smiled. "Anyway, I want you to know that I don't love you any less than I love Frank. You're both my sons and I'm proud of you both, in everything you do. Understand?"

Joe nodded. He jumped off the chair and wrapped his arms around his father. Fenton hugged him tightly. "I am very, very sorry about last night. I got carried away with the case I was working on and lost track of time."

Joe let go of him. "The one with the missing guy?"

"Yep. He turned up on his own and I had to figure out where he was and what he was doing."

"Wow, that would be confusing, wouldn't it?"

Fenton laughed. "Yes, it was."

Just then Laura came down the stairs with Frank trailing behind her. "Honestly, Frank. How in the world did a pair of jeans that I know I put on the dresser end up under your bed?"

Frank looked sullen. "I don't know, Mom." Then his eyes lit up when he saw Joe. "Hey, bro. How're you doing?"

Joe smiled at him. "I'm good."

Suddenly an idea popped into Fenton's head. "I hope no one has any plans for today."

Laura looked at him warily. "Why?" At least she was speaking to him.

"Because," Fenton replied, "I have a wife who makes fantastic picnic lunches, a son who has to show me how he won last night's game, and there's a soccer field calling our name."

Frank's eyes grew wide. "Really, Dad?"

Joe grinned. "Yeah! And Frank can be the goalie!"

"It's all up to your mother, of course," Fenton added, smiling at her.

She looked doubtful. "But it's only 10 in the morning. Not even near lunch time."

"That's plenty of time to play, Mom!" Joe said. "I get really hungry playing soccer. Please?"

"Yeah, Mom. Pretty please?" Frank joined in.

A smile crept across her face. "I have to say, I want to know how you won the game."

"Yes!" Joe cried. "I'm gonna go get dressed!" He rushed up the stairs.

Within 20 minutes, the Hardy family was walking out their front door. Laura smiled as she watched Joe talking animatedly with his brother, glad he was alright. She hoped life could now get back to normal.

Or, at least, as normal as it ever got in the Hardy household.

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**THE END! Hope you liked! Thanks again to all my reviewers; you guys (and gals) rock.**


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